


Fix me

by Frenchibi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A lot of Angst probably, A lot of Feelings™, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Why am I doing this to myself is the real question, character injury, iwaoi - Freeform, this is iwaoi but there's matsuhana if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who… who are you?”<br/>Silence fills the room as all faces turn towards Oikawa - and then everyone is talking at once.</p>
<p>or: The one where Oikawa loses his memory <strike>and it breaks Iwaizumi's heart</strike></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing he sees when he wakes up is a face hovering above him, eyebrows drawn tight with worry. A split-second later, the eyes staring down at him widen in what can only be called surprise and relief.

“Oikawa!”

He frowns, feeling a sharp pain in his temple and raising his hand to his head. His fingers brush over bandages. In a fluid motion, he’s sitting up – or he tries to, at least, but is overcome by dizziness.

A hand is on his arm to steady him, so fast he can barely blink in surprise.

“Whoa – are you okay?”

He looks over at the boy who said his name, the boy whose hand is clenched firmly over his bicep, and who is frowning in concern again. His eyes are strikingly green, and his hair is messy, but not in an unattractive way.

“Uh… a little dizzy,” he manages, his voice coarse from apparent lack of use.

“Hold on,” the boy says, and before Oikawa can react, he shoves a pillow behind his back and props him up against it.

“Better?”

Oikawa nods slowly, his hand reaching to his throbbing head again subconsciously.

“I’ll just go get the Doctor. Don’t move” – and he’s gone, the door falling shut behind him.

Oikawa shuts his eyes and lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. The boy’s face swims before his eyelids, concern changing to relief.

He’s in a hospital room, everything is clean and bright and impersonal. There’s a bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. Someone changed him into clothes he’s unfamiliar with. He feels… clean. Strange.

The door opens and the boy is back, a friendly-looking, middle-aged doctor and a young nurse in tow. The nurse meets his eye and blushes. Before he can think to react, he’s already flashing her a grin. It’s just what he does.

“Good to see you’re awake, Oikawa-san,” the Doctor says, smiling warmly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“…my head hurts,” he says, and finds himself unable to look at the boy beside him.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Oikawa stops to think. His eyes sweep the room, but there’s nothing here to give him any clue whatsoever. All he knows is that his head hurts like a bitch.

“Uhm…”

“You were in an accident. Do you remember?”

_An accident._

Oikawa closes his eyes, trying to recall anything like that. What was he doing?

“…I was walking home from practice, I think,” he says slowly.

“There was… was it a truck?”

He opens his eyes to see the Doctor nodding. “You were hit, and suffered a severe concussion. You were unconscious for two days.”

His eyes widen. “Two days?”

It explained the clean-ness. The new clothes. The flowers.

“You should be fine,” the Doctor says reassuringly. “It’s not uncommon for people that experience head trauma. We will have to run some routine tests later before we can let you go. You might have to stay one more night, but other than that, there ought to be no other complications. Your family has been notified; I expect they’ll be coming to see you soon.”

Before Oikawa can reply, the boy speaks up. “Thank you, Doctor. May I stay with him?”

The man considers him for a moment, then nods. “Of course. But you might want to give him some time with his family once they arrive.”

The boy nods. “Yes, sure.”

The Doctor and the nurse leave the room, closing the door on the two of them. Oikawa turns his head to look at him, unsure what to say, where to start. Thank him for helping…?

His skin is the color of Oikawa’s favorite chocolate, a warm light brown.

He’s spared the trouble of thinking of a coherent sentence, because the other speaks first.

“Jesus, Shittykawa. Don’t scare me like that!”

The boy slumps in his seat, suddenly drained of energy. “You should be more careful!”

Oikawa just stares at him.

“What?” the boy asks, irritated. “Are you gonna give me shit for staying with you? …of course I’m staying, after something like that. I thought you were gone there, for a moment.”

“Uhm…”

“Stupid idiot. Everyone’s worried, you know? The others wouldn’t stop calling me to ask about you.”

He glances at the door. “They were even here earlier. Seriously, what kind of Captain makes his entire team worry…”

_His team._

_Captain._

Before Oikawa can say anything, the door is thrust open rather violently, and a woman’s voice fills the room with a cry of “TOORU!”

His mother takes the room by storm, all but throwing herself at her son and enveloping him in a tight embrace.

“Oh, Tooru, I was so WORRIED!”

He exhales sharply, her scent filling his nose, and suddenly it’s too much – she’s practically sobbing into his shoulder, and he finds himself crying, too.

“I’m sorry – mom, I’m sorry…”

Through a veil of tears he sees his father standing in the doorway, and his sister holding his nephew’s hand right behind him. They’re all here, and he’s stupidly relieved even though he doesn’t really remember the accident himself, but he sees their worry and relief and knows it must have been pretty bad.

So he cries until the shaking stops and he’s drained of all energy and slumps against his mother’s shoulder. She pulls back then, pushing him back into his pillows and discretely wiping away her own tears. Then she turns to the boy in the chair beside him.

“Hajime-kun, thank you so much for staying with him-“

“It wasn’t a problem, auntie.”

_Auntie…?_

“Who… who are you?”

Silence fills the room as all faces turn towards Oikawa - and then everyone is talking at once.

“What?!”

“Tooru, are you serious?”

“No way-“

Oikawa’s hands shoot up to cover his ears, and he cringes from the noise. The others in the room stop short, and both the boy and Oikawa’s mother reach for him.

“Ah – sorry – Tooru, are you okay?”

He nods, slowly lowering his hands.

“What did you just say?”

It’s the boy’s voice. It sounds so familiar, and yet he can’t place it.

He turns his head to look at him-

\- and almost gasps at the expression on his face. It’s shock, horror, disbelief, all mixed together and screaming for everyone to see.

“Oika- You don’t… remember me?”

Oikawa blinks at him. “Remember… do I know you?”

And the moment he says those words, he regrets them. He wishes he’d lied, because the look they put on the other boy’s face is nothing short of heartbreaking.

“Bu- Oika-… I’m-“

“It’s Hajime-kun,” his mother says, cutting off the boy’s feeble attempts. “Iwaizumi Hajime. Your best friend, remember? You’ve known him since you were little!”

Oikawa can only stare. His eyes are so green, and so full of anguish.

“You… you look familiar. But…”

The pain in Iwaizumi’s face is raw and deep, and he can’t hide it. He's not even trying.

“I hope you’re joking, Shittykawa-“

But he’s not. He’s not.

He’s forgotten his best friend.

And for some reason, he feels like a piece of his heart has been torn out.

~~~

“Alright, Oikawa-kun. Tell me about yourself.”

He sits up in his chair, very aware of his mother and Iwaizumi, who are sitting behind him. Fact-checking.

“My name is Oikawa Tooru. I’m seventeen.” He hesitates.

“I… like alien movies and sci-fi books,” he adds slowly, feeling his head beginning to throb again. “My favorite food is milk bread.”

His hands are on his knees, and he remembers something else. “I… got injured while training, didn’t I? My knee-“

The Doctor nods. “Your friend tells me you’ve been having trouble with that. But that it didn’t stop you from your favorite hobby.”

“Uh, yeah…”

Oikawa’s drawing a blank, and everyone in the room knows it.

Gently, the Doctor asks: “You play a sport. Do you know what kind…?”

Oikawa frowns. He remembers a time when he was very small, running around in his new street, a ball in his hands-

“Uhm. Basketball?” he guesses – and by how everyone tenses he knows immediately that he’s wrong.

“Oh, Tooru-” his mother says quietly, “you haven’t played basketball in years, not since you met-“

But she stops short.

“Not since you met me, and I made you join the volleyball club with me,” Iwaizumi finishes, his face impassive.

“Oh,” Oikawa says.

_Oh._

~~~

“…so it seems you haven’t forgotten everything – just memories that connect you to your best friend,” the Doctor concludes. Oikawa fights a sigh. The tests were long and tiresome – and not made any easier by the fidgeting going on behind him. Right now he’s just glad they're finally over.

“There are many unexplained phenomena in memory loss,” the doctor is saying, “and as of today it’s not fully researched – the human brain still remains a mystery to us in some areas. I cannot promise you that your memories will return, but it is possible. For the time being, you should try going back to school and meeting some of your friends, to see if maybe they trigger memories for you. It might be painful at first, so I want you to take it slow, and immediately contact me if there are any changes to your condition.”

His mother is nodding, but he isn’t really listening. His eyes are on the boy – Iwaizumi. His best friend. Whom he can’t remember. He’s listening to the Doctor, too, nodding intently. His eyes flit over to Oikawa and their gazes meet briefly, before Oikawa drops his and looks away.

 _Don’t look at me like that_.

Oikawa realizes something, right then and there.

He doesn’t want to be this boy’s cause of grief and pain.

And it’s not just because he generally doesn’t want to cause people pain, either. It’s because somewhere, somehow, he’s got a feeling that this boy is incredibly special. He wants to shelter him, to protect him – to keep him from harm.

Now if only he knew why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already sorry for the feelings going on here. Maybe I'm a masochist... I just really love these two and I know this has probably been done before, but I had to go there. Comments and Kudos are much appreciated, obviously. Thanks for reading! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this new chapter took me so long o_o  
> Also thank you for all your lovely comments?!?! They made me so happy :D I really wasn't expecting this much feedback on my first fiction on this site ^^'

Iwaizumi exhales, his breath showing in front of his face in a soft white puff against the crisp morning air.

He doesn’t know why he’s here.

It’s not like Oikawa expects them to walk to school together. He doesn’t even remember who Iwaizumi is, for crying out loud. Oikawa wouldn’t even notice if Iwaizumi didn’t go past his house to pick him up.

_Iwa-chaaaaan, are you angry? Why didn’t you come pick me up this morning? I had to walk to school alone, and I missed morning practice ‘cause I overslept! Hey, Iwa-chan! Don’t ignore me! Did I do something…? Iwa-chaaaan!_

That won’t happen anymore. He doesn’t _have_ to take the detour around two blocks to fetch his best friend before morning practice, to make sure he’ll get his ass out of bed on time.

Oikawa won’t complain anymore if he doesn’t.

And yet, here he is. Right where his feet unconsciously carried him. Treading in place and rubbing his gloved fingers together as he waits, in attempt to keep them from growing numb.

He’s not even sure what he’s waiting for. Oikawa probably doesn’t even know he’s here. Texting him would feel weird, so his only option is ringing the doorbell to let him know he’s waiting.

But he can’t bring himself to push the button. Because wouldn’t that be weird?

So he stands, and he waits, and he hopes for a miracle.

He kind of hates himself.

Suddenly, there’s a soft knock on the kitchen window. Iwaizumi’s eyes jump to where the sound came from, and he sees Mrs. Oikawa looking back at him, beckoning. He swallows the tension building in his chest, and opens the gate.

She smiles, but the sadness in her eyes is heavier as she opens the door for him. “Tooru will be ready in a second. Just wait inside, where it’s warm,” she says, and quickly turns away, walking towards the stairs.

_Tooru! How long were you planning on making Hajime-kun wait?! Get down here already, I know you’re awake!_

“Tooru! Iwaizumi-san is here to pick you up for morning practice!”

_I need my beauty sleep, mom! Iwa-chan knows I can’t just be effortlessly handsome-_

A door opens on the second floor. “I’ll be right there,” he calls.

It’s Oikawa’s voice, but it’s sure as hell not him.

~~~

They walk beside each other in silence. On its own, that’s not uncommon – sometimes Oikawa needs time to think, and he becomes so quiet it’s almost eerie. Those silences aren’t uncomfortable, awkward or boring though. They’re peaceful.

But the silence between them now feels like a rope tightening around Iwaizumi’s throat, constricting his wind pipe, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He can hear his heart beat dully in his chest, feels the seconds tick by as they approach the school building. If he wants to say something, he should do it before they’re surrounded by Oikawa’s worried friends and fans.

But there’s only silence, somehow.

It’s heavy and hollow all at once, and Iwaizumi hates it. But he doesn’t know what to say to make it better.

_What’s wrong, Iwa-chan? You’re so quiet today! Did Mattsun and Makki keep you up again…?_

_Shut up, Shittykawa. Mind your own business._

He’s afraid there’s nothing he _can_ say.

~~~

Hanamaki is the first to run into them, and they’re not even in the locker room yet.

Iwaizumi takes Oikawa around the back of the school to get to the gym, trying to avoid any students that may have come in early – he knows he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t help it. And Oikawa isn’t questioning him. Just smiling that small, polite, sad smile of his, that makes Iwaizumi want to punch him.

They round the last corner of the school building, and the gym comes into view – as does their fellow third-year, walking towards them from the other side. He raises his hand in greeting when he sees them.

“Oi! Hajime! Tooru!”

Tooru looks up at Hanamaki, and Iwaizumi swears he can hear the cogs working inside his brain.

Hanamaki quickly walks up to them, exchanging a meaningful look with Iwaizumi before turning to Oikawa.

“Hey. Good to see you up and about. How’re you feeling?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“…better,” Oikawa says slowly, his eyes travelling over Hanamaki’s face.

The tension rises, until Oikawa lets out a deep breath.

“I’ll be even better if you wipe that dumb look of your face, Makki.”

Hanamaki blinks, even as a grin spreads over Oikawa’s face.

“Wh- Oikawa, you ASS!”

And then Oikawa is laughing.

~~~

Iwaizumi can only stare.

His brain has been in overdrive for most of the morning, but now it seems like it’s shutting down.

Oikawa remembers Hanamaki.

It makes no sense. The four third-years in the volleyball club have always been close – so how can he only remember one of them? What about Matsukawa, does he remember him, too? And the other team members?

He’s stopped walking, even though Hanamaki is already pulling Oikawa towards the gym, leaving Iwaizumi behind in the cold.

“Hajime! You coming or what?” he calls over his shoulder – and only then does he stop to look at him. Oikawa looks, too, but his gaze isn’t concerned, just mildly curious. Hanamaki assesses the situation within seconds, his eyes darting between them. Then he claps Oikawa on the back and says: “Go ahead. I have something to say to Mr. Grumpy here.”

Oikawa hesitates for a split second, then nods and turns his back on them.

~~~

“So you weren’t kidding.”

Iwaizumi is avoiding his gaze, looking anywhere but at his friend. It kind of sickens him.

“I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Hanamaki exhales deeply. “Yeah, you wouldn’t. Oikawa would. But… he wouldn’t hurt you like this.”

Iwaizumi purses his lips. “He’s always hurting me.”

“Sure. But in an affectionate way. Not like this. He must… really have forgotten you. Which is weird, considering…”

Hanamaki trails off, letting the end of his sentence hang in the air between them.

Iwaizumi knows what he’s implying, and usually he’d smack the back of his head and retort something defensive. Usually, Oikawa would be here to back him up and do the same thing.

This isn’t like it usually is. He knows Hanamaki is perceptive, and all his teasing has some kind of truth as its foundation. So he just nods once, resolutely, confirming his teammate’s unspoken suggestion. There was no point denying anything anymore.

Hanamaki sighs, then does something completely unexpected: He steps forward and pulls Iwaizumi into a gruff sort of one-armed hug, squeezing his shoulder.

He lets go before Iwaizumi has time to react, and gives him a grim smile.

“He’s gotta remember eventually. Oikawa’s not Oikawa without you.”

Now it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to sigh.

“I just really hope you’re right.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been too long! Sorry D: I'll try and keep the updates coming more frequently. Happy Holidays, people, and I hope you like this chapter - I'm sorry for all the pain and suffering. Cry with me TAT

He remembers them.

Iwaizumi feels numb, barely paying attention to the practice match they’re playing, while his mind races.

Oikawa is sitting on the bench, watching them. He recognized the coach, but doesn't remember that he used to be on the team. His eyes follow the players and the ball, and he seems interested enough - politely, anyway.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to think about that.

Oh, and then there’s the fact that he remembers the team members – all except for him. And of course they’re all supportive, all ‘Oikawa-san’ this and ‘Oikawa-san’ that, and ‘if there’s anything we can do to help-‘

He realizes he’s grinding his teeth together – _what am I, a fucking dog or something?_ – and shakes his head to snap himself out of it. The team’s timing is all off and messed up, and he’s pretty sure it’s his fault. He’s brooding and he knows it.

_Iwa-chan, if you think too hard, your forehead will get all wrinkly!_

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes flitting to where his best friend is sitting. He’s watching with that stupid polite smile on his face.

_How can you remember these people but not the game you used to play with them…?_

“Iwaizumi-san, are you alright?”

He looks up to see the rest of the team watching him, and even Oikawa’s gaze flicker over to him, a slight frown on his face.

“Uh. Yeah, sorry, I was spacing out.”

_Ooh, were you thinking about a girl, Iwa-chan? Was she pretty?_

Oikawa just stares.

He really needs to get over himself.

“Sorry, sorry – let’s keep playing!”

He’s about to serve – he hadn’t been aware that he had been holding the ball – when the coach steps in. “I think that’s enough for today,” he says, and some team members murmur in agreement.

“You’re welcome to join us again for the next practice, Oikawa-san.”

“Uh,” Oikawa says. “I’m… not sure I’ll be of much use, really…”

The coach smiles in an almost pitying way. “That’s not true. You’ll learn again soon enough.” But his eyes look more worried than he’s letting on. Iwaizumi is pretty sure he’s wondering how the hell the team will manage in games without Oikawa.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa, in the middle of taking down the net, turn to smile at their captain.

“You better remember – we’re toast without you!”

Some of the first years nod in agreement.

“…I’m sorry,” Oikawa says, looking down.

“Oh no, it’s fine. You can come and just watch practice for now. Just yell if you feel like joining in. You’re the best setter we’ve got, anyway,” the coach says.

He receives a blank look in response.

_God help him, he doesn’t know what a setter is._

Oikawa smiles, and Iwaizumi wants to smash his skull to stop him from putting on an expression like that. He’s smiling like he used to smile at the girls fawning over him – polite, charming, and completely fake.

Iwaizumi hates it. He turns away from him before he can actually slap him, though, reminding himself that he can’t do that anymore. Not to this small, quiet, timid Oikawa that doesn’t even remember him. He can’t even bring himself to say anything.

The coach breaks the tension by giving Oikawa another half-smile before turning to the rest of the team. “What’s the hold-up? Come on, get this gym clean!”

Iwaizumi lets out a breath, then turns and tosses the ball into the basket with the others as the first-years scramble to get the mops.

He walks back over to the bench and picks up his water bottle.

“Come on, Oikawa. Time to go.”

_Iwa-chan’s always in such a hurry-_

“Okay.”

And he just goes and gets his bag.

Iwaizumi wants to throw something.

~~~

Oikawa follows him – albeit too obediently and without so much as a single complaint – out of the locker rooms and into the main school building. He seems to remember it well enough, and stops in front of the correct classroom door.

“Uhm… see you later?” he says, with an uncertainty in his voice that doesn’t suit him one bit.

_Don’t forget to pick me up for lunch break, Iwa-chan! And you’ve gotta hurry, or I’ll get stuck with the girls again!_

“Uh, sure. We, er… We used to have lunch together. Do you-”

It’s a lot more awkward than he ever thought it would be. Oikawa glosses over it though, and Iwaizumi stops when he sees the setter’s pained smile.

“I’d like to join you. Maybe I’ll remember something.”

Simple as that. But for some reason, Iwaizumi almost thinks he hears Oikawa sigh when they part ways.

As he walks to his classroom, his mind is still working in overdrive and he thinks he’s getting a headache.

~~~

Of course, Iwaizumi ends up seeing Oikawa around a lot that day. Not that that makes things any better. He runs into him in the hallway twice before lunch, his lack of recognition a constant reminder of something he seems to have lost.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa join them for lunch, and that should have made it easier, but in truth, it only gets more difficult.

He starts to realize so many little things about Oikawa that he never did before, things he may have known but never paid attention to. Maybe it’s because he used to be too close to really look at him, too close to see all these tiny things that are torturing him now.

Oikawa throws his head back when he laughs at some joke with the friends he remembers, unabashed and raw and real. Iwaizumi watches with a sense of nostalgia that hurts more than it should after just three days without the Oikawa he knows. He can’t bring himself to participate in the conversation, his head is throbbing and his throat feels dry. So he just watches, and he suffers.

A group of girls track them down halfway through their meal, hovering around until Oikawa gets up to accept their get-well cards and, as far as Iwaizumi can tell, even a small bag of hand-made cookies. He also can’t help but notice that when Oikawa is with girls, he politely chuckles and he’s careful to keep his expression agreeable, always smiling, always the gentleman. His eyes are empty though, staring through the girls like he can’t even really see them. He knows their names, but they hold no meaning.

Still, he remembers them. That’s more than Iwaizumi can say for himself now.

~~~

The walk home is torture. He ends up waiting for Oikawa out of habit, and when the setter rounds the corner and spots him, there’s a transformation in his face that Iwaizumi had hoped never to see.

It’s like someone dropped a lead weight onto his chest – Oikawa almost physically sags a little, and his eyes scream how tired he is and how he just wants this to be over.

Iwaizumi has seen this happen before, he just never thought he’d be the one to cause that expression.

It hurts more than he can say, and more than he’d care to admit.

He makes his decision.

_I don't think I can do this._

They walk in silence for a bit, and Iwaizumi's brain supplies him, all too helpfully, with memories of conversations they had in the past while walking down these roads.

They pass a small park, and Iwaizumi remembers the time Oikawa insisted on hogging the swing set while he told him a story - they were there long enough that two small kids, the second one accompanied by his annoyed-looking mother, complained about it and finally made them leave (not without Oikawa complaining loudly about it for the rest of their walk home, and completely forgetting to finish his story).

They passed the convenience store they always bought ice cream from in the summer and hot tea in the winter, though Oikawa would always proudly remind Iwaizumi of that one time he managed to make a cup of hot chocolate that was "the most amazing thing I've ever tasted, Iwa-chan, I swear it! Come to my place and I'll show you!" Iwaizumi would always humor him, but Oikawa always ended up making a complete mess of the kitchen without getting anything done at all. In the end, it was always Oikawa's sister who made them a drink that at least passed for hot chocolate, although Oikawa would then boast that, of course, his was much better, if he could just get it right again.

Iwaizumi snaps himself out of it as best he can, shaking his head slightly to clear it. They've almost reached Oikawa's house by now, he realizes, and chances a sideways glance at his best friend.

Oikawa is staring at the ground in front of him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his bag slung over his shoulder casually, almost effortlessly, like it always is.

"Are you gonna come to practice again?" Iwaizumi asks, breaking the silence.

Oikawa sort of half-shrugs and makes a non-committal sound. "I'll probably... go again, yeah. Not sure how much good I'll do though."

"...okay. D'you... think you can get there by yourself tomorrow?"

At this, Oikawa turns to face him, blinking in surprise. "Uh. ...sure, I guess?"

Iwaizumi nods once, avoiding his gaze.

"Alright. If... if there's anything you need, you should have my number in your phone."

They stop in front of Oikawa's gate, and Iwaizumi shoves his hands into his pockets as well.

"Guess I'll see you around. Let me know if... if you remember anything."

And before Oikawa has a chance to open his mouth, he turns and starts walking away, shoulders hunched slightly against the wind.

He's not sure if this is the right choice, but for now, it's all he feels he can do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been too long! I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to be as short as it is or as... lacking in progress, but I wanted to give you guys SOMETHING because you've been waiting far too long. I have the rest of the story pretty much planned out, just not 100% written yet, but I'll try to get it up on here as soon as possible.  
> Thank you for your patience!  
> (I'm sorry, there might be some mistakes here - I'll go back and edit them later. Feel free to point any out, I don't have a beta so I'd be grateful for the help ^^)

His plan to avoid Oikawa lasts two days.

They play out almost identically: He gets up in the morning to his alarm instead of an annoying text, and the first thing he thinks is “something must be wrong with Oikawa,” before his brain catches up. He gets dressed, irritated, grabs his bag and the food his mother prepared for him and heads out the door, in the direction of Oikawa’s house.

The first time, he realizes his mistake only when he’s already at the door, and accelerates his step in case Oikawa’s mother is looking out the window again, ducking his head and hurrying past the house. The second time, he realizes it right as he’s rounding the corner to Oikawa’s street, stops in his tracks and turns to walk back the way he came. Even though that’s an even bigger detour than if he’d just kept moving, and he knows it.

He’s early to practice on both days, though, despite all that – force of habit has him planning in more time than he needs, because Oikawa usually likes to take it slow in the mornings and tends to be a drama queen if Iwaizumi rushes him. Without that to slow him down, he has too much time to get changed and contemplate his life choices. He tries to convince himself he likes the silence, even though he knows deep down that he definitely prefers the rush and noise that always surrounds Oikawa and blocks out his thoughts. At times it can be annoying, but Iwaizumi is realizing quickly that, more often than not, he’d be glad for something to overwrite all the negativity going on inside his head.

He’s grumpy through practice and misses a bunch of easy shots – and gets even grumpier when he realizes that the team is being ridiculously nice about it, clapping him on the back with a bunch of “don’t mind”s and “You’ll get the next one”s and “Nice fight”s. It’s annoying, and he’s pretty sure the coach is behind it. He doesn’t actually go and complain about it, though. Instead he broods, and averts his eyes from the setter on the bench, even though he can feel his gaze on the back of his head.

Class is terrible. He’s obviously not paying enough attention, and unlike his teammates, his teachers know no sympathy. No matter how many times they call on him, though, and he doesn't know the answer, he can't bring himself to care.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa crowd him during the breaks, evidently trying hard to keep him occupied, but he shoos them away, too impatient to pretend that it’s working. They seem a little disheartened each time, but strangely determined as well, and they keep showing up again and again. Eventually, Iwaizumi gets up and leaves the classroom so they won’t find him that easily.

Afternoon practice is no better on the first day. More misses, more sympathy, more nausea. It’s been creeping up on him all day, bile rising in his throat, but he’s sure it’s not from the food he’s been eating.

By the morning of the second day he realizes it’s because he’s disgusted with himself and the coward he’s being.

Oikawa corners him in the hallway before afternoon practice on the second day. Iwaizumi is already side-stepping him (he tells himself he wasn’t watching for him, he didn’t notice him the second he rounded the corner, didn’t notice the way Oikawa’s eyes searched the corridor before locking onto him), but Oikawa puts out an arm to stop him.

It’s an instinctive move, no meaning behind it, but Iwaizumi flinches at the touch.

“Oh,” he says, and he can’t help how his lips purse, tense and anticipating. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

_Of course not._

“Ah. Uhm. Don’t mean to bother you but- I’m supposed to tell you there’s no real practice this afternoon. Another club needs the gym, and, uh. The rest of the team is just gonna… do some running. Out by the track field.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi says again, dumbly.

Oikawa nods and turns away, looking put out. Iwaizumi feels a pang of guilt. Without thinking, he reaches out and grabs him by the arm.

“Oikawa-“

The former setter turns, startled, and is too slow to hide the surprise in his expression. Iwaizumi stares for a split second, caught up in the color of Oikawa’s eyes, and has his hair always fallen that way? He catches himself and releases the other boy’s arm abruptly.

“Uh. Thanks. And… sorry.”

Oikawa smiles, and even though it’s a little relieved, it’s fake, fake, fake. Iwaizumi feels sick to his stomach. Oikawa’s eyes search his face, and he hesitates a little before speaking again.

“Listen, uhm. If you don’t mind… would you… would you walk home with me after practice?”

Iwaizumi blinks. “Huh?”

Oikawa immediately does a double-take – he even takes a step back.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to make it weird. I just… you obviously know me, but I don’t know you, so I figured… maybe if I spent some time with you… I might remember something…? Sorry, I didn’t mean-“

Iwaizumi is shaking his head, so Oikawa stops his rambling. “…sorry,” he mutters, and turns to leave again.

“Yeah, okay,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa freezes.

“Wh- … really?”

“Yeah. If… if you think it might help you remember.”

Because anything is better, he realizes, than not being with Oikawa. This fake, polite, lonely Oikawa is not the one he knows, but he’s the only chance he has at getting his best friend back. Doing nothing is just as bad, and if all options are painful, he might as well take the one that gives him a chance.

~~~

The walk home is strange, to say the least.

Iwaizumi keeps remembering Oikawa’s pained expression from two days before, the way he seemed to be troubled by Iwaizumi’s presence alone – not that he’d ever show that if he knew the other would see it. That part hasn’t changed; Oikawa still thinks it’s his job to not trouble the people around him.

Iwaizumi has the urge to hit him again just thinking about it. Then he realizes he hasn’t actually hit Oikawa in more than four days, which is practically a new record. He actually chuckles at the thought.

_Are you sick, Iwa-chan? You haven’t hit me in four days! You sure you’re okay?_

“What?” Oikawa asks, a confused smile on his face, tilting his head and bringing Iwaizumi back to reality.

“Oh. Nothing, I just. I just remembered something.”

He realizes a split-second too late that that’s the wrong thing to say, because Oikawa’s eyes grow heavy with what Iwaizumi can only call sadness, and his gaze drops to the floor.

“Oh.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… you’ll probably think it’s stupid.”

“Was it about… about me? From… before the accident?”

And he looks so hopeful, Iwaizumi feels like someone’s punched him in the gut. He’s hurting him.

“Yeah. Never mind, it’s-”

“Would you tell me? Please?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen a little. Oikawa’s mask is cracking just a bit, and maybe it’s because Iwaizumi knows him so well, but he can see the pain behind it, the fear, the loneliness.

He realizes that maybe that is his fault, too. Maybe he misread him the other day. Maybe he was wrong to leave him alone.

“Just… I used to… hit you a lot. Not… not because I wanted to hurt you or anything, just… you’d say something dumb and I’d smack you for it. And I was just thinking… I haven’t hit you in four days. That’s like… a record, or something.”

Oikawa blinks, then that small, troubled smile is back. “So either I’m a huge pain in the ass, or… you’re kind of a jerk.”

Iwaizumi half-chuckles. “Probably both. But… we work.”

They eyes meet, and Iwaizumi sighs. “It’s… weird. You’re right there, but you’re also… not. It’s… hard, I guess.”

Oikawa nods. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to… stick around, if it’s too… I don’t know. Painful. I don’t know what you’re… I’ve never lost a friend like that. I don’t know what it’s like. But I don’t… I don’t want to cause you pain. I feel like I _should_ know you, but I just… don’t. I thought talking to you might help. If it’s too much, you don’t have to… I mean…”

He trails off, almost a little helplessly. Iwaizumi smiles sadly.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, okay? It’s… it _is_ hard. Very. But… I can’t just accept the fact that you don’t remember me and move on. Maybe I’m… clinging to the past too much, but I’m not ready to let our friendship go like that. I’m gonna do what I can to help you remember.”

He looks up and realizes they’re almost at Oikawa’s house already. They stop in front of the gate, looking at each other wordlessly. Oikawa is searching his face, but after a moment, he looks down at his shoes again.

“Thank you. Don’t… don’t give up on me yet…?”

It’s a half-question laced with uncertainty, and it’s so much like the old Oikawa that Iwaizumi has to suppress a gasp.

“I won’t. See… see you tomorrow.”

~~~

Oikawa closes the door behind him and leans against it, exhaling in a long sigh as he drops his bag on the floor.

It hurts.

The conversation replays in his head, and he rubs at his eyes in frustration. It just doesn’t make sense. When he looks at Iwaizumi, talks to him, walks home with him – there are no memories at all, no matter how hard he tries to recall something, anything about him. It’s like he’s never met the guy, even though everyone is so sure that they’ve been inseparable since they met.

He doesn’t remember anything. But whenever he sees him, his heart clenches in his chest. It’s like someone’s doused him in cold water, like he’s drowning and soaring all at the same time. His heart rate accelerates, he’s incredibly conscious of every word he says and he notices the slightest change in Iwaizumi – a shift in his gaze, the small sadness in his smile – immediately. Like he’s spent his entire life watching no one but him. Like waiting for Iwaizumi’s reactions is an instinct.

Oikawa isn’t stupid – he knows what that means. He knows the boy he’s forgotten is the most important person in his life – he can tell by how empty he feels all the time, by how desolate every minute of this normal life is that he’s fallen into. He knows because when Iwaizumi told him to go to practice by himself, he felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. He knows because avoiding him felt so _wrong_.

The pain he feels is surely only the shadow of something much bigger, much stronger, and just out of his reach. If only he knew what to do, what to say, where to go to make himself remember.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...in which Iwaizumi is a poor boy with FEELINGS and Oikawa makes a (re-)discovery

They slip back into a rhythm so fast it’s almost scary.

Iwaizumi picks Oikawa up for morning practice the next day – which he, again, is content to merely watch rather than participate in, politely smiling all the while – and they walk to class together afterwards, separating at the door to Oikawa’s classroom.

“Lunch with Makki and Mattsun,” Iwaizumi tells him, and then adds, before he can stop himself, “don’t get caught up with your fans.”

_Wha- Iwa-chan, I have NO idea what you’re talking about! How dare you suggest that I would let anyone stop me from having lunch with my lovely-_

Oikawa looks surprised, but then he scoffs. It’s nothing close to his usual offended pout, but it’s something. “Gotcha,” he says, not without sarcasm, and waves him off.

Iwaizumi is startled, torn between just being glad they seem to be getting somewhere here but also not liking this new development one bit. He’s taken over by reluctance to re-befriend someone who shouldn’t have forgotten him in the first place, while part of him still doesn’t want to break whatever is happening right now because honestly, anything is better than not talking to Oikawa at all.

Iwaizumi’s body remembers to turn and head to his own classroom while his mind is still whirring, trying to process what just happened.

He shouldn’t have to try so hard to get to know Oikawa again – after all, he already knows him, right? If only Oikawa would remember.

~~~

Lunch is… better, or at least not as bad as it could have been.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa actually make it easier this time, because Oikawa seems to be trying to have conversations with all of them together and seems less awkward around Iwaizumi. He’s genuinely making an effort to include him (not that he’d need to, really, the only one who doesn’t remember him is Oikawa himself, after all), and even makes a joke at his expense – one that is, granted, not as jarring or mean as the ones he’s used to, but it’s a start.

Iwaizumi finds himself actually enjoying their lunch break a little. Of course it’s nothing close to before, before the accident, before losing Oikawa like that – but it’s a start.

A step in… well. Not necessarily the right direction – Iwaizumi still has no idea what _the right direction_ is even supposed to be – but it’s better than not moving at all.

(He tries not to think about how he just admitted to enjoying the old Oikawa’s company more than he’d usually let on. He’s probably well beyond denying it now, though.)

Everything seems to be going fine. That is until, inevitably, a couple of Oikawa’s dedicated fangirls tracks them down. Oikawa is surrounded instantly by a bunch of girls that skillfully ignore Iwaizumi and the others and proceed to shower the setter in sympathy, more get-well-cards and even more hand-made cookies, apparently.

Oikawa plays his part, he thanks them all dutifully and smiles a lot more than necessary – until his eyes catch on something across the courtyard. After that he waves the girls off rather unceremoniously and comes back to sit with his friends again.

“Say,” he says, and he inclines his head towards a bench near the gym. “Is there a new girl in our year? The one sitting over there, with Hana-chan?”

Iwaizumi frowns. He knows he still has trouble remembering names and faces, but Oikawa has always been observant and knows all of their classmates by name – at least all of the girls, for sure. Apparently not even his accident could change that.

The three of them follow Oikawa’s gaze, and Iwaizumi blinks when he sees who Oikawa is taking about.

“Uhm… no. That’s Aya. She’s in my class. She... you dated her once.”

He hopes they don’t notice him stutter – but there’s no way they wouldn’t. Sure enough, Makki shoots him a meaningful look. Oikawa doesn’t seem to notice, he’s too busy studying the girl on the bench.

“Really? What happened…?”

Hanamaki saves Iwaizumi the trouble of explaining. (Especially since Iwaizumi is having a hard time keeping his expression neutral.)

“She said you were too preoccupied with volleyball, so she dumped you.”

As if on cue, the two girls get to their feet and head inside the next building. Aya turns back to glance briefly in their general direction before they both disappear from the boys’ line of vision.

Iwaizumi exhales a little too loudly – thankfully Oikawa is still busy staring after her, a frown creasing his brow.

“Huh. I wonder why I don’t remember her…”

~~~

_It’s the summer of their second year when Oikawa proudly tells Iwaizumi about his conquest. Iwaizumi knew that he had had several girls confess to him in the past, but he’d always turned them down so far._

_“What’s so special about her?” he’d asked, hating how pouty his voice sounded over the words._

_“Eeh? Everyone knows Aya-chan’s the prettiest girl in our year. Don’t you pay attention at all?”_

_Iwaizumi manages to roll his eyes and hold on to some semblance of dignity. “I don’t pay attention to gossip. And just being pretty doesn’t make you the best.”_

_At this, Oikawa smirks. “She’s super smart too, Iwa-chan. Probably smarter than you!”_

_Iwaizumi bites the inside of his cheek to hold back a retort that’s bubbling up to his lips. He wills himself to stay calm (even though there’s a fire raging inside him) and says: “That’s not too hard either. I don’t see what you’re so proud of.”_

_Oikawa’s mouth pulls back into a pout. “Are you jealous, Iwa-chan?”_

_Iwaizumi’s heart clenches in his chest at the word, and at the way he says it, but most of all because it’s true. It’s_ true _._

_“Of course, Trashkawa,” he says, with as much sarcasm as he can possibly muster, and he kicks at Oikawa’s chair for good measure. Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him._

_“If you’re always mean, you’ll never get a girl to like you!”_

_It’s only then that he realizes Oikawa was asking if he was jealous of him, not of her._

~~~

Iwaizumi remembers Aya very well. And he still hates how Oikawa looks at her, even now, when he doesn’t remember even being together with her. He tries to reason that it’s because he never seemed to really care about her all that much, but he knows it’s a feeble excuse.

He gets to his feet, knocking against Oikawa’s leg as he does so. Not on purpose, of course. But it gets Oikawa’s attention back to them , back to their group. Not at all on purpose.

_Who am I even kidding._

“We should get going, too,” he says, trying to ignore his intractable thoughts, and Matsukawa nods. Hanamaki gives him a look that says _we’re not done here_ but he doesn’t object. As they pack up, Iwaizumi makes a point to not look at Oikawa, but he feels Hanamaki’s gaze burning on the back of his neck. He knows he’s not being subtle at all, God damn it, and he’ll probably never hear the end of this.

~~~

Hanamaki corners him before practice, and Iwaizumi knows better than to run away or avoid him. It’s quicker and probably more painless to just get this over with. Makki and Oikawa are actually similar in that they get extremely annoying when they think they’re being ignored.

“Oi. Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs. “What.”

“Come with me for a bit.”

“Can’t this wait?” he asks half-heartedly, knowing he won’t get anything out of this. “Practice is about to start.”

“Exactly. And if I have to watch your fucking pining for another minute I’m gonna be sick.”

Iwaizumi looks around in alarm, but no one seems to have been paying attention – the only other people in the changing room are Kindaichi and Kunimi, and they’re too immersed in their own conversation to care. Matsukawa is discretely ignoring them both – Hanamaki probably briefed him about this before, anyway.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi hisses, and grabs him by the arm. If they’re doing this, they’re doing this outside.

Hanamaki allows himself to be dragged out behind the locker rooms, where it’s unlikely anyone will pass by in the next few minutes. Only when he’s sure no one is around, Iwaizumi drops his arm and glares at him.

“What do you want, Hanamaki?”

Hanamaki looks unimpressed. “I don’t think that’s the question we want answered here. This is about what YOU want.”

Iwaizumi sighs, turning his head to look anywhere but at his friend. “Really? Do we have to do this now?”

Hanamaki surprises him by grabbing him by the sleeve, forcing him to look at him again.

“Yes. Yes, we have to. Because it’s important. You… you’re a fucking mess, Hajime.”

_I know. I KNOW._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t get cute with me. I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s really none of my business, but… then the accident happened, and you guys… God. I was hoping one of you would finally make a move, and instead you… you didn’t just take a step back, you went completely back behind the starting line. And I can’t watch that again.”

Iwaizumi feels anger bubbling up inside him, and before he can think to stop himself, he slaps Hanamaki’s hand away. He’s long past denying anything, anyway.

“Well what am I supposed to do?! He doesn’t remember me! He doesn’t remember anything! I have nothing, absolutely nothing to go on!”

Hanamaki looks strangely satisfied at the outburst. “Exactly. That’s gotta change, real fucking fast.”

“Oh yeah? How.”

“Get him back?” Hanamaki says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Huh?!”

“Oh, come on. There is NO WAY his memories of you aren’t still in there somewhere. You just gotta find them.”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? What if they aren’t, though? What if he never remembers me?”

The thought had been circling around his head for a while, and he’d always pushed it back so far. But now, after having said it out loud, all his doubts and fears come crashing back. What if this is the end? What if Oikawa – the Oikawa he knows – is gone? What if he’s not coming back?

He’s not sure he can go through befriending him again. And even if he does, they’ll never be the same, because Oikawa won’t remember all the things they’ve done, and everything they’ve been through. He won’t remember Kitagawa Daiichi. He won’t remember the struggles they faced. He won’t remember catching bugs and searching for aliens. He won’t remember late-night phone calls and texts during class. He won’t remember _them_. He won’t remember _Iwa-chan_.

Before he realizes what’s happening, there are tears in his eyes. He wipes them away angrily.

“There’s nothing I can do, Makki. What am I supposed to do.”

Hanamaki sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Come on. Think for a second, okay? Oikawa remembers everything. He knew who Mattsun and I were. He knew the team members, just not the sport. He can’t remember that many details and permanently forget you. If this was irreversible amnesia, he’d have forgotten a lot more, and stuff from the same time period. It’s way too weirdly specific that he remembers everything except things that connect him to you.”

Iwaizumi stares at him. It kind of makes sense. Kind of.

“But-”

“You know what I think?”

Hanamaki crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I think Oikawa is making himself forget. I think he’s… subconsciously protecting himself. Maybe… maybe remembering you is painful to him, and this is his mind’s response to the physical pain of the accident – he’s blocking you out.”

He lets his words hang in the air for a few moments, then shrugs, arms dropping back to his sides. “Although I’m no doctor. I have no idea, really. I just know what I see. …and you know what’s weird? He still stares at you.”

Iwaizumi frowns. “What do you mean?”

Hanamaki rolls his eyes. “Well, aside from you two being obviously oblivious – he used to watch you a lot. Before… the accident. And he still does. But I get the feeling he’s kinda confused about it. Like it’s an instinct.”

What he’s saying makes sense, in a way. Iwaizumi is also always watching Oikawa – it’s a habit that started when they were kids, he supposes, and Oikawa was always getting himself into trouble. Iwaizumi had taken little Tooru under his wing, and it was a matter of pride that he didn’t let anything happen to his new friend.

Now that he thinks about it, those habits never really faded. And he’s glad they didn’t – he might never have noticed the thing with Oikawa’s knee, or any of his other issues, if he hadn’t been watching him so closely, and if he hadn’t known exactly what to look for.

One of the main reasons he can read Oikawa so well is because he’s always watching him. It makes sense that Oikawa, in turn, would be watching Iwaizumi as well. It also explains how he always seemed to show up with perfect timing to annoy him. Or, well. It never really was actual annoyance, was it?

Iwaizumi is still frowning, all these revelations a little too much for his tired brain. Hanamaki is watching him, but he seems more or less satisfied.

“My God, you guys really are kind of dense.”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Think about it though. Don’t give up on him so easily, that’s all I ask. And please, please keep your pining under control. Oikawa may be dense, but everyone else isn’t. And you don’t want their pity and/or disgust in your face.”

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows. “Which one am I getting from you?”

Hanamaki grimaces. “Both.”

~~~

Iwaizumi walks him home after practice, and they part with a wave in front of his gate. Oikawa feels like he’s made progress – they managed to have something akin to a conversation on the walk back, even if it was still full of awkward silences and uncertain glances. He feels strangely restless as he watches Iwaizumi leave, like he should chase after him, but he has no idea what for. So he ignores the impulse and heads inside.

“I’m home,” he calls, and hears his mother’s muffled reply from the kitchen. He knows his father is home late on Fridays, so they have dinner late as well. He still has some time, so he goes upstairs to unpack his things.

He drops his bag next to his bed when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

Oikawa pulls it out and types in his passcode – 0610 – mechanically. His hands are used to the motion, he doesn’t even think about it – but then he wonders, just for a second, why that’s his passcode in the first place. Six-Ten, it doesn’t really ring any bells.

A thought occurs to him, and he opens up his phone’s organizer, ignoring the message he just received. He realizes quickly that he apparently doesn’t really use his phone’s calendar, like, at all. So his eyes scan the room, finding the one he hung on the wall beside his desk. He flips it over until he gets to June-

And the tenth is circled, sure enough, but there are no notes. Not that there’d be enough space for notes on that calendar anyway.

He considers for a moment, then turns around and throws open his door.

“Mom?” he calls out into the hall. She answers his call, and it sounds like she’s still in the kitchen. He makes up his mind to ask her in person instead of yelling through the house and quickly bounds down the stairs. His mother pokes her head around the corner as she hears him coming down.

“What’s the matter, Tooru?”

“Mom, what’s on June 10th?” he asks, trying to sound casual as he skids to a halt in front of her. Her expression betrays a hint of shock before she glosses it over.

“That’s Haji- Iwaizumi’s birthday, dear. Why do you ask?”

Oikawa blinks in surprise. “Oh. I was just… it was circled in my calendar, so I wondered.”

She frowns, but doesn’t inquire further. Meanwhile, Oikawa’s brain is whirring frantically. What does that mean? He had his best friend’s birthday as the passcode on his phone? People didn’t… usually do that, right? Or had he got it wrong, and his code meant something different? But wouldn’t that be an incredible coincidence?

“You still don’t remember him?” his mother asks, pulling him back out of his thoughts. She studies his expression, looking concerned. Worried, even.

“…no,” Oikawa says. “I don’t remember anything about him. And everyone keeps asking me that, you know? ‘You really don’t remember?’ And I feel bad because I honestly don’t. Is it really that big a deal?”

He throws that last question in even though he knows, somehow, that it is. It IS a big deal. He can totally tell that it is, because he feels so many things whenever he’s with him, things that confuse him and make him uneasy while at the same time calming him beyond belief. By all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.

“Oh, Tooru,” his mother sighs, barely hiding the sadness in her voice. “It’s...”

She hesitates for a second, then turns to put down the dish towel she’s holding as she says “...come with me for a bit, I want to show you something.”

He frowns but follows her to the living room, where she pulls out a thick book from the bookshelf by the sofa. A photo album, Oikawa realizes. She sits down on the sofa and beckons for him to join her. After a second’s hesitation, he does.

She rests the book on her lap and begins flicking through it until she finds the page she’s looking for, and then she holds it out for him to see.

There are two pictures on the page, of the same scene: Two young boys, evidently Tooru and Hajime, standing together in what looks like their garden, back when they had a sand box and a swing set. Oikawa barely remembers this, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

“You and Hajime were inseparable from the moment you met,” she says, as Oikawa stares down at the picture. He’s probably four or five years old, a band-aid plastered across his cheek, a tooth missing from his wide smile. His tiny fingers are tightly fisted into the hem of little Hajime’s shirt, holding on to him or pulling him along, Oikawa can’t really tell. Hajime looks a little annoyed, with his bug-catching net clutched tightly in his hand. In the second picture though, the one below, probably taken a moment later, he’s smiling, too.

His mother turns the page, to a picture probably taken without the two boys noticing: Here they’re lying in the grass and Tooru is pointing up at the sky, and Hajime’s face is turned towards him, watching and listening intently to whatever the other boy is saying. The picture looks like it was taken from a little further away, it shows more of their surroundings; a couple of trees and high grass in the background. The lighting is softer, too – it’s probably evening, and they might have been looking up at the first few stars of the night.

“Alien-watching,” Oikawa reads aloud, a caption his mother must have written when she first stuck this picture into the album. She smiles. “You’d do that all the time. Sometimes you’d even sneak out at night to force Hajime to go on adventures with you. You’d throw pebbles at his window and everything.”

Oikawa finds himself smiling a little. He doesn’t remember, but it does sound like something he might do. Maybe.

“Oh, and look, here,” his mother says, already a few pages ahead. “You won that award in middle school!”

She shows him the picture. He remembers the blue uniforms of Kitagawa Daiichi, but that’s about it. Hajime is standing next to him in the picture, grinning along with Tooru, who is holding his certificate proudly. “Tooru wins best setter,” the caption reads.

“Setter, huh?” Oikawa says, more to himself than to his mother. He remembers hearing the word for the first time, the day after he woke up, in the gym at volleyball practice. The coach called him their best setter – and he hadn’t had any idea what that meant. He didn’t miss Iwaizumi’s pained expression, though. Well, at least that made sense, now. Probably.

His mother is watching him, a sad little smile on her face. “Hajime was also the one who brought you home when you injured your knee.”

This catches his attention. He turns to look at her, confused. “My knee?”

She nods. “You were… so frustrated. You’d stay late and practice volleyball at the gym even after everyone else had gone home, and… well, you overdid it a little. I would never have noticed if it weren’t for Hajime. He carried you home the day you slipped. He was so mad, scolding you even as he carried you in here. ‘This idiot got himself hurt because he doesn’t know when to stop,’ he said. But he was really, really worried. I could tell. He insisted on coming to the hospital with you, too.”

Oikawa looks back down at the picture, at the boy grinning toothily beside him. “He sounds like a great friend,” he says quietly.

His mother bites her lip. “He is,” she agrees, and she can’t hide the worry in her own voice.

She pushes the album into his lap and says: “You can… look through this, if you like. Maybe it’ll help you remember.” And she gets to her feet, giving him another smile before she heads back into the kitchen.

Oikawa doesn’t move for a couple of minutes, staring down at the book in his hands. Maybe. Maybe it will. But he doubts it.

~~~

Only when he’s back in his room does he remember the reason he went downstairs in the first place – his phone’s passcode. And the message that made him notice it.

He stops in the middle of the room, photo album in hand, and fishes his pocket for his phone with the other. He enters the numbers and opens the message app. He realizes he hasn’t done this since the accident, either.

The message is from Matsukawa, reminding him that there’s morning practice on Saturdays, too, and that he’s welcome to join the team if he wants.

Oikawa stares down at the small chat window, then closes it and scrolls through the rest of his chats. The second from the top is the one he’s looking for, of course, but it takes him a second to find it, because the contact name doesn’t read “Iwaizumi” or even “Hajime,” like he’d have expected it to.

Instead, it says “Iwa-chan.”

“Huh,” he says, a little surprised at himself. Why would he call him that?

He clicks the name to open their chat history. It’s all several days old, but he scrolls up a little anyway, to the beginning of their last conversation.

_[Saturday]_

_[05:45] ready to go??_

_[05:46] Iwa-chaaan_

_[05:47] Iwa-chaaaaaaaan_

_[05:47] are you ignoring me, Iwa-chan? So rude!_

_[05:49] what’s taking so long, you said we’d go running before practice_

_[05:50] Oh wait_

_[05:50] did we say 6:45_

_[05:50] oops_

[06:16] Oikawa I swear to God

[06:17] It literally wasn’t that difficult

[06:17] you cant expect me to be awake before 6

[06:17] on a fucking saturday

_[06:17] omg Iwa-chan I’m sorry_

_[06:17] I got it mixed up_

_[06:17] forgive me TAT_

_[06:18] who needs sleep anyway though, really_

[06:26] well, where the fuck are you

[06:26] you’re the one who wanted to go running

[06:26] in fucking January

[06:26] it’s fucking cold

_[06:27] Turn around~ <3_

[06:27] You’re an obnoxious brat and I will slap you

_[06:27] Aww, Iwa-chan, I know you love me_

[06:27] go die

 

He lowers his phone. That’s the last text Iwaizumi sent him, on the day of the accident. His fingers clench around the small device, knuckles turning white.

He wishes he could remember. He really, really does. He knows, he just _knows_ he’s forgetting someone vital, someone whom the previous Oikawa Tooru cared very, very much for. It’s not fair, on either of them, that he doesn’t remember. It’s not fair to the people around them, either. He can still see his mother’s sad smile – even if he doesn’t want to, he’s worrying her. He’s worrying everyone. Mattsun and Makki, too, though they try not to let him see it.

Oikawa’s fingers clench tighter in frustration, and an unpleasant crunching noise reminds him that he’s still holding his phone. In a sudden burst of anger and frustration, he chucks it against the wall.

He didn’t use enough force to break it, it just ricochets and clatters to the floor. He huffs out a breath, deciding he doesn’t care anymore, and kicks at it with his foot. It skids across the floor and knocks against his desk, beeping feebly.

“Fuck you,” he says, although he’s not sure where all this anger is coming from. He returns his attention to the photo album in his other hand, opening it up where he stands, in the middle of the room. He finds the picture from middle school again, and turns the page. The next picture is from their graduation ceremony, the two of them in front of the school building, arms around each other and grinning into the camera.

_…try to smile, Iwa-chan, you’ll make the picture ugly with that frown of yours!_

_Screw you, Shittykawa! I’ll punch you!_

_No you won’t! I’ll never forgive you if you ruin our pictures!_

_Stop being so rude then!_

“…I’m not rude, just honest,” he says quietly.

And then, suddenly, it all comes crashing back.

Oikawa stumbles backwards, dropping the book and barely noticing that he trips over his bag and spills some of its contents onto the floor as he lands on his bed, hands moving up to clutch at his head.

Everything slams back into place in that one instant – faces, memories, feelings. It leaves him breathless, gasping for air as his heart races and his brain struggles to comprehend the new information. It’s too much, too fast, and it _hurts_.

It’s over in less than a second, as quickly as it began, but nothing is the same as before.

Oikawa lowers his hands, and his eyes go wide.

He takes a deep breath, trying to make sense of this, trying to get his grip back. He takes another. And slowly, slowly he realizes that everything he’d forgotten, everything he thought he’d lost, everything he’d been searching for – it’s right here.

It’s actually really simple, so simple he almost laughs out loud. God, he’s been so stupid. Everything makes sense now.

There’s only one person that matters, and his name rolls off his tongue like a revelation.

“Iwa-chan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long, oh gods. I'm sorry, it's been almost a month? I'm terrible. But we're close to the end, I should be getting the rest out soon (most of it's already written, anyway). I think it might be seven chapters though, instead of six. We'll see.  
> I think this might be the longest chapter though, what? o_o I was also afraid I got the dates wrong but if Oikawa's accident was on a Saturday this should work out. (with him being unconscious til Monday afternoon and going back to school on Tuesday... yeah.)  
> Well, anyway:  
> Thank you for your patience, and thank you for all your lovely comments - they make my day every single time :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inevitable confrontation - there's no way Oikawa can keep lying. (...not to Iwaizumi, and certainly not to himself.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance that this might be a wild ride - I'm not completely satisfied with this but it's been so long since my last update already and I didn't want to make you guys wait that much longer. I might go back and fix some language stuff that I don't like - if anything strikes you as completely off or weird, please let me know D:  
> Also... this is probably the chapter you've been waiting for. Oh boy.

Oikawa is awake long before his alarm clock rings – and even that would have been way too early. Not that he slept much in the first place. He’s lost the last few hours in a blur of thoughts and memories, most of them centered around Iwaizumi and on sorting out the gigantic mess he’s found himself in. Because, honestly? He’s past the point of lying to himself, here.

He’s in love with his best friend.

He isn’t sure when it started - elementary school, middle school? - but it started so small, and it just sort of happened. Like his brain had installed a new filter, reached a new awareness for things that were always there but never really caught his attention.

The first thing he noticed was his hands. He often came into contact with Iwaizumi’s hands, through casual touches and half-hearted slaps and, of course, through volleyball. He’d watch Iwaizumi hit his serve with incredible power and precision and find himself staring at the ace’s hand instead of the ball – at his reddened palm where he’d made contact, and at his calloused fingers. He’d high-five him after a successful combo, reveling in the fact that there is still no other player he trusts as immediately and blindly to hit his tosses every single time – and find himself letting his hand linger where they touched.

It wasn’t an immediate infatuation, it was gradual and subtle, but more and more Oikawa found himself obsessing over those hands, admiring how they were gruff, large and honest (unlike his own slender, girlish fingers) and maybe a bit awkward, but also sincere and gentle and strong when it mattered – just like Iwaizumi himself. (Oikawa’s rock, his ace, his-)

And those hands were only the beginning of something much larger and all-encompassing, something that crept up on Oikawa gently only to draw him under, swallow him whole and change him forever.

He’d notice Iwaizumi’s polite little chuckle and his booming roar of a laugh, and find himself craving the sound of both. He’d try to make him smile just so he’d see his features soften and his eyes get that gentle, happy tint they always get when Iwaizumi is relaxed and comfortable. He’d provoke him just to get his attention, because to Oikawa that had become almost like oxygen. He’d notice how Iwaizumi used his experience and intellect to strategize with the other team members during practice and matches, surprising Oikawa with unconventional ideas or simply making him ridiculously proud, so proud he couldn’t hide his grin.

And of course other people were bound to start noticing, too. Oikawa was an expert on reading people, since that was all he’d ever done, to fit in, to be well-liked and appreciated. So when he realized that this thing he was feeling – these sensations that were taking him over from the inside out – was getting too strong for him to handle without being obvious, he pulled back.

He distanced himself, forced himself to look away – and he suffered for it. It was hard, but it was manageable.

And then, in their third year of middle school, a genius crept up behind him, and Oikawa lost his footing. Iwaizumi watched him from the sidelines, trying to catch his eye, trying to help him along, to pull him back to the ground, but Oikawa was hell-bent on flying, on showing everyone that he could go higher, faster, better than anyone else-

Until he snapped. But Iwaizumi was there for him then, too.

When he thinks back, Iwaizumi was there in all significant moments of his life, as far back as he can remember. He’s never turned away from him, never abandoned him, never shown any signs of actual regret of being friends with him. Never shown signs that he wanted anything to change.

And that’s it, isn’t it? That’s the problem. They worked fine this way, but then Oikawa had to fuck it up. Because when he woke up without the memory of his best friend, of course the memory of his restraint towards him was gone as well. There was nothing to stop him from falling even harder.

Where he used to catch himself, the thoughts of _what ifs_ and _maybes_ ran wild, and now he can’t get them out of his head.

He’s pretty sure he won’t be able to keep up his façade if he is alone with Iwaizumi for long – he needs time to reorganize his thoughts, to bring his defenses back up.

With this in mind, he gives up on sleep and decides to leave early for this morning’s practice, to avoid walking there with Iwaizumi. He decides he might keep up the amnesia-front for now, and if he’s ready to talk to him by Monday… he’ll tell him that he remembers then, and they can go back to normal.

~~~

When Iwaizumi arrives to pick Oikawa up for that Saturday’s morning practice, he’s surprised to be met by his mother at the door instead, who tells him that Tooru has already left.

All the way to school he can’t help but wonder whether he’d done something wrong the day before, something to make Oikawa want to avoid him for some reason – apparently his brain cannot fathom this new world in which Oikawa barely knows him and would still just avoid him without saying a word. There might be a logical explanation, but Iwaizumi is more prone to worrying lately.

After all, everything seems to be a worst-case-scenario these days.

~~~

Practice passes without too much trouble. Oikawa joins in this time, albeit only for warm-ups and stretches before he sits back down on the bench and watches the rest of the team play. Iwaizumi tries not to stare at him too much, but when he does look, he thinks that something is definitely different about the way he’s watching them. His eyes seem more alert, focused – and, as Iwaizumi realizes after a moment – they’re avoiding him.

He’s not sure what to make of this – for the last few days, even though everything else seemed to have changed, memory-less Oikawa had still kept staring at him (to a point where Makki had felt the need to point it out, after all). To be completely honest, Iwaizumi hadn’t really acknowledged it, because he was so used to Oikawa trying to get his attention that he had his own eyes trained on him most of the time anyway, if only to prevent him from doing something completely idiotic. They’d worked that way for nearly all his life, so he’d never really questioned it.

But now, the only thing obvious about Oikawa’s behavior is that he is decidedly NOT looking at Iwaizumi anymore. And because he’s so used to his attention, Iwaizumi notices immediately.

Something is off. Something’s changed.

He can’t get behind what it is, though, because he can’t very well confront him now. Usually he would, but…

_We’ve only just started being friends again._

Oikawa helps clean the gym this time – well, at least he helps collect the balls, which is more than he’s done in months since he became captain of the team. He’s also smiling again – a lot more than he did the last couple of days. It makes no sense to Iwaizumi, and it makes his stomach knot together in worry. He recognizes this kind of behavior, from times when Oikawa was feeling worse than ever and trying to hide it from the world. He knows the difference between his usual polite smiles and the ones that are just a little too bright, too long and too dazzling to be genuine or pass as believable.

And the smiles Oikawa is throwing around today sure as hell aren’t real ones.

~~~

When he finally leaves the gym, Oikawa barely holds back a sigh.

It’s so, so much worse that he’d feared – he can’t even look at him without fearing that everyone can see exactly what he’s thinking, without fearing he’s far too obvious.

And of course, of course Iwaizumi notices. Oikawa isn’t sure what to feel about that.

He follows Kyoutani (who even showed up today, surprisingly) and Yahaba into the locker room, but instead of getting changed right away, he lets himself sit on one of the benches on the far side of the room and just take in the noise of the team as he tries to gather his thoughts.

He watches Hanamaki tease the first years, but his eyes aren’t really seeing them.

As his mind wanders, he decides that while not knowing why he’s so attached to the ace was, admittedly, terrible, remembering now doesn’t make anything any easier. His mind is a whirlwind of memories and emotions and it’s completely unhelpful that the only clear thought he seems to be able to conjure is a chant of Iwaizumi’s name, over and over and over.

Because Iwaizumi is everything.

To be fair, Oikawa knew that even when he didn’t know who Iwaizumi was, and he didn’t understand why. Now he knows, and he knows exactly why, too. Everything. _Everything_ is why.

The reason Iwaizumi (and his mind sings, _Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan_ ) is the most important person in the universe to Oikawa is in so many places, it’s impossible to pin down on one thing. It’s in every word he says to him, every glance, every smile, every chuckle, every exasperated groan, every slap, every hug and every casual touch he gives him, in how he electrifies Oikawa’s world and everything feels brighter when he’s there. And it’s in how Oikawa knows that he’d be completely, utterly lost without him.

The problem is, of course, that he knows he can’t just cling to him for the rest of his life, no matter how much he wants to. And he’s pretty sure that, even if he’s lucky, at most they’ll stay best friends that see each other occasionally in the future, and they’ll never be as close as they are now. If they even still are, at this point.

And he’s so scared. He’s afraid that now he won’t be able to pretend anymore, and he’ll lose his best friend because he loves him too much, and differently than he should. He’s convinced (even if that’s probably not true, in retrospect) that he could have continued like they always have, just a little too close but never close enough, if he hadn’t had that accident. But of course it’s too late for that “what if” now. He has to find a way to deal with this, and fast.

He looks up to find the locker room mostly empty already, save for Makki, Mattsun and the first-years. Iwaizumi is lingering by the door, evidently waiting for him, and Oikawa realizes he’ stalling, he hasn’t even changed out of his training clothes yet.

Oh, he’s definitely not ready for this.

“Ah – Iwa-chan, you don’t have to wai-”

And he stops.

_Oh. Shit._

~~~

Iwaizumi whips around so fast he almost loses his balance. He stares at Oikawa with wide eyes.

“…what?”

Oikawa blinks – but then something changes in his face, and he covers his mouth with his hands, as if he could call back the word he just said. But it’s too late.

“…why did you… how did you know to call me that?!” Iwaizumi asks, his voice quiet with apprehension.

“Uh…” Oikawa says, snapping himself back just a second too late. “Uhm, Makki told me I used to call you-”

“You’re lying,” Iwaizumi says, not letting him finish. He doesn’t even know why he’s so sure – one of the others could have told him. But… the way he said it.

_There’s no way._

“Oikawa-”

He’s not sure how to confront him, or with what – but when he catches the other’s gaze, he’s spared the struggle.

Oikawa only meets his eyes briefly, then looks away. Something heavy seems to fall between them, and it only takes Iwaizumi a few seconds to catch on.

It’s guilt.

_You little-_

“You remember!” he blurts out, and staggers backwards, away from him.

Oikawa says nothing, he’s busy intently staring at the floor – but his face screams ‘I fucked up.’

Iwaizumi knows that face.

He knows that face because this is _his_ Oikawa. The Oikawa he knows. The Oikawa he grew up with.

The Oikawa who remembers him.

He catches his balance and charges towards the setter, hand reaching out to grab the collar of his shirt and roughly pull him forwards, bringing his face right up into his personal space.

“Oikawa, I swear to God-”

Someone’s suddenly grabbing him from behind, pulling him away.

“HEY!”

From the corner of his eye he sees Matsukawa, who has his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. He strains against the grip of what can only be Hanamaki then, struggling to break free.

“Fucking let go of me! He lied to me! That little fucker lied to me!”

“Calm down, Hajime-”

“HELL NO! Let GO of me!”

“Not until you’ve calmed down. He’ll explain. Just calm down, Jesus-”

The door to the changing room bursts open to reveal the coach, yelling: “What the hell is going on in here?!”

He takes one look at the scene, and a deep frown creases his forehead. “Iwaizumi, laps,” he says, and his tone is icy.

Iwaizumi is seething, already opening his mouth to spit back a reply, but Hanamaki pinches his arm. The pain distracts him for a split-second, and that’s enough for him to regain a little control. He looks from Hanamaki to Matsukawa and they both nod at him once. His gaze sweeps over Oikawa, who is pointedly not looking at him.

“Fuck this,” he says. “Fuck you. How long?”

“Now,” the coach says, frowning at Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s gaze is locked on his feet.

“I swear- how fucking long, Oikawa? When did you remember?”

“…yesterday,” Oikawa says quietly. He looks so small and pathetic that Iwaizumi wants to slap him. But all he does is take a deep breath. He has his answer.

“Iwaizumi. Laps. NOW.”

Slowly, he turns to face the coach and nods.

“Yessir,” he says, and leaves the room.

“Ten, until you’ve calmed down!” the coach calls after him. Then he turns back to face the rest of the team. “Hanamaki, Matsukawa. Stay and make sure he’s back to normal before you let him back in here – and lock up when he’s done. The rest of you can go.”

~~~

When he’s done with his laps, he’s still seething, and he may or may not have slammed the door on his way out of the gym.

It makes no sense at all that Oikawa would hide this from him – who the hell did he think he was, playing around with him like that? Did he think he wouldn’t notice? Did he think this was funny, in some twisted way?

Couldn’t he see how fucking painful the last couple of days had been?

“What the fuck, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi breathes, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands.

He’s getting answers, now, and if he has to beat them out of him.

Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa are waiting for him in front of the locker room, looking worried.

“You gotta calm down,” Hanamaki says, before Iwaizumi can even open his mouth. “Oikawa’s still here, and he’ll explain, just… don’t yell at him?”

Iwaizumi looks from one to the other before exhaling deeply.

“I’m… not mad,” he says, and he realizes it’s kind of true. His initial anger is gone, evaporated. Now, he’s just… a little worried, maybe. “Just… let me talk to him, okay? I’m not gonna hit him or anything. I just wanna know what’s going on.”

Slowly, they exchange a glance before nodding and stepping aside. Iwaizumi gives them both a look and a nod of his own before he walks past, pushing the door to the locker room open.

It’s empty, except for one person, of course. Iwaizumi tenses again immediately.

“…Oikawa.”

The setter looks up from where he’s sitting on one of the benches, still in his training clothes, his eyes widening a little in surprise.

“…”

They stare at each other for a second, and the door falls shut, isolating them.

Then Oikawa caves and looks to the floor.

Iwaizumi sighs and walks over to his locker, pulling his shirt off over his head.

When he’s changed back into his regular clothes he turns back to face his childhood friend, who hasn’t moved since he came through the door. They’re not getting around this conversation, though. Iwaizumi sighs for what feels like the twentieth time that day before steeling himself.

“…why didn’t you tell me you remember?”

Oikawa runs his hands over his face, sighing too.

“I… God. I don’t know, Iwa-chan. I’m… I don’t think I can talk to you yet.”

Iwaizumi blinks.

“What?”

And damn, he’s really missed that nickname, hasn’t he? Shit.

“Could you just… give me a day, or two? So I can sort myself out? We can go back to normal, I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt you or anything. I’m just… really confused right now, okay?”

 “…you don’t trust me anymore?”

Oikawa blinks, startled. “What? No-”

“So talk to me?”

Iwaizumi exhales in yet another sigh and takes a step closer to Oikawa, who seems to flinch back just a little.

“You don’t have to do everything alone. I can help you. And I…”

He stops to breathe, feeling some of the tension easing a little.

“I’ve missed you,” he says finally.

Oikawa covers his face with his hands.

“Please… please, Iwa-chan, go away…”

For a second, he wants to obey. To just turn around and walk out the door. But Iwaizumi stares down at his best friend, looking so small and vulnerable, and he knows he won’t. Not today. Not ever, if he’s truly honest with himself. He couldn’t abandon him even if he wanted to. And this last week has hurt him more than he could possibly say. There’s no way he’d walk away from the Oikawa that remembers him.

“No,” he says. He crosses the distance between them and drops down to crouch in front of Oikawa, between his knees, his eyes now on a lower level than his captain’s.

Oikawa tenses visibly, but he doesn’t move his hands, doesn’t look at Iwaizumi.

“No,” he says again, and he reaches up to pull Oikawa’s hands away himself. Oikawa struggles a little, but he’s not really resisting, lowering his arms slowly. Iwaizumi pulls them down to rest on his thighs, the fingers of his left hand loosely entwined with the ones of Oikawa’s right.

“Why can’t you just… go. Please.”

Oikawa’s voice is flat and pressed, like he’s trying hard to keep his tone leveled. He stares down at their joined fingers, but does nothing to pull away.

“Because whatever this is, you’re telling me first. Damn it, Oikawa. Quit shutting me out. This last week was… horrible, okay? And I’m done feeling like shit because of you.”

“…so leave?” Oikawa says, and he looks like he regrets it instantly, the second the words leave his mouth.

“No,” Iwaizumi says firmly.

“But you said it yourself, I make you feel like shit! You think that’s gonna change?”

Oikawa presses his lips together tightly, as if that could stop the anger that’s already spilling out of him. He still looks like he regrets every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Honestly? No. But if I’m gonna take your shit for the rest of my life, I might as well take it directly. I don’t want- no, I can’t. I can’t keep running after you, trying to keep up and trying to prevent the worst disasters that happen when you overthink things or act impulsively. You’re gonna have to let me in.”

Oikawa blinks, and their eyes meet for the first time. Iwaizumi sees a lot more vulnerability there than he would have expected, and he’s taken aback.

“…you’re not gonna take my shit for the rest of your life,” Oikawa says. He means to sound sure, but Iwaizumi hears the uncertainty underneath.

“Of course I am,” he says. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Oikawa shakes his head a little.

“Why would you want that, Iwa-chan? That’s… so dumb.”

“Maybe I like your shit from time to time,” Iwaizumi says, feeling a little stupid to say that out loud.

“Really.”

“Yeah. Shittykawa.”

There’s a brief pause, and Iwaizumi lets himself look at the setter a little more closely. There are dark circles under his eyes, hidden by concealer. He might not have noticed if their faces weren’t so close, just a foot apart.

“…so what’s wrong? Why… why’d you say you’re confused? Is something worrying you?”

It’s not the question he wants to ask, but Oikawa is finally looking at him, and he doesn’t want to push away that little bit of trust that he just fought so hard to get. Talking to Oikawa when he’s nervous or sad or troubled is like walking through a field of mines – a tiny wrong step could mean instant death.

“…you’ll hate me,” Oikawa says quietly.

Iwaizumi frowns up at him. The position he’s in is starting to get uncomfortable, so he drops down to his knees, arms still resting on Oikawa’s thighs.

His instinct is to say “I already hate you,” but something stops him. Maybe joking about this isn’t the most tactful thing to do.

“There’s… I’m pretty sure there’s nothing that could make me hate you.”

Oikawa hesitates. “…then you’ll be… disgusted. Or something.”

“Why on earth would I be disgusted? I’ve known you all my life, I’ve seen you at your absolute worst. And I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I don’t deserve you,” Oikawa whispers, “and if I tell you, you’ll only realize that faster. You’ll leave me.”

Iwaizumi tightens his grip on Oikawa’s fingers and leans in a little closer, determined to get his friend to really listen, and to believe the words he’s about to say.

“No. No, Oikawa. Look. I will – no, look at me. Look. I will never leave you. You hear me? Never.”

Oikawa whimpers; a small, distressed sound that’s like knife to his chest. Iwaizumi doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“It’s not about deserving anything, either. I’m your friend because I want to be.”

“You’ll stop wanting to.”

Iwaizumi huffs out a little laugh. “Hah. No.”

“How can you be so sure…?”

“Because it’s you,” Iwaizumi says simply. “Because… because now I know what it’s like to… not have you in my life. And I don’t… I don’t want that. Like, ever again.”

He doesn’t add that five days ago, when Oikawa said “do I know you,” his heart shattered into billions of tiny pieces, and he’s been trying to pick them up again ever since. Doesn’t say that the fact that he’s here, right now, talking to the Oikawa he knows instead of the one who doesn’t remember him, makes him feel invincible. That he knows he’ll never be complete without Oikawa somewhere near him. That he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his best friend, but he can’t help it. That he’s probably loved him all his life, without knowing it. That he’d sooner chew his own arm off before spending another day without him, let alone a week.

“Besides. You’d say the same thing about me.”

Oikawa looks like he wants to believe him, like he’s really trying, but he’s just not quite there yet. He looks down, away from Iwaizumi’s face, hesitating.

“…I like someone,” he manages finally, eyes fixed on his hands, “and I don’t know what to do.”

Iwaizumi starts a little – and then he almost laughs. “Wh- Oikawa, are you kidding? Practically every girl in this school adores you. All you gotta do is ask her out? Anyone’d be happy to-“

“It’s not a girl.”

Iwaizumi blinks. Oikawa is pointedly not looking at him, but there’s color rising to his cheeks.

“Oh.”

So many things pass through Iwaizumi’s mind in that second: Everything ranging from “Whoa wait, Oikawa _likes_ someone?” to “He likes _guys_?” to “This changes everything, this means I can-” before he cuts himself off fiercely.

_Focus, focus. This isn’t about you_.

“So… you’re not sure if he’s… gay too? Is that the problem?”

He’s proud of how level his voice sounds, like all this isn’t fazing him at all, like Oikawa’s words haven’t set his insides on fire. Like it’s not getting harder to breathe with every second because _Oikawa likes someone_ and he knows that no matter what happens, it’s going to be almost as painful as losing him all over again. Because after this week, he’s pretty sure he can’t ignore what he’s feeling anymore.

“…well…” …and Oikawa is still not looking at him.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Iwaizumi asks carefully.

“…no, he… he’s never had one.”

The fingers of Oikawa’s left hand are curling into a fist over the fabric of his shorts, the fingers on the other still laced loosely with Iwaizumi’s own. Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa can tell how nervous he’s getting, even though he’s trying hard to hide it.

“How long… you know this guy well, see him a lot?”

“…yeah.”

“Wait, is he… on the team?”

Oikawa hesitates a lot longer this time, but finally he manages to let their gazes meet again.

“…yeah.”

Oh shit. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit_. It's someone Iwaizumi knows. Someone Iwaizumi likes, probably, because if he’s honest he can’t think of anyone on the team he doesn’t get along with. Someone Iwaizumi doesn’t want to hate, probably couldn’t if he tried. Oh, shit, this is going to hurt.

He desperately wants to ask who it is, but Oikawa would probably recoil if he did. So he takes a deep breath, forcing it all down, pushing it away. This is about Oikawa, not him. This is about getting Oikawa, the person he cares about the most, back into Iwaizumi’s life. And if it’s only as his best friend – only ever as a friend, as he dreads – then so be it. He has tons of time to be upset about this later. This isn’t about him.

“Huh. But… seriously, though? You should just talk to him. You’re… you’re pretty impressive. If anyone can convince someone to take a chance on them, it’s you. You can try to win him over.”

And again, he’s proud that he doesn’t hesitate more than necessary. Proud that he sounds supportive and kind instead of jealous and possessive – or worse: hurt.

“…things will get really awkward though, if he doesn’t… if he doesn’t feel that way.”

Well, Oikawa has a point. But that won’t calm him down.

“They don’t have to. All the guys on the team are… pretty decent people, when it comes down to it. You don’t have to tell me who it is, but… I’m pretty sure the person you like wouldn’t… you know. Be problematic about it.”

“…you think?”

He sounds so… hopeful? It feels like daggers piercing Iwaizumi’s heart. There is someone on the team, someone in their immediate vicinity who is making Oikawa a complete insecure mess. Someone Oikawa likes. Someone he-

And it’s too much.

Suddenly, Iwaizumi feels sick.

“Yeah,” he says, trying to sound certain. Be the supportive best friend he knows Oikawa needs, has always needed. He hesitates, then he adds: “Guess it’s a good thing you’ve remembered volleyball, huh? You’re… pretty cool when you get serious. Impressive, I mean. It might help you.”

The praise somehow has the opposite effect than Iwaizumi wanted it to. Oikawa slumps visibly, and his lower lip catches between his teeth.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks, tentatively. Worry seeps into him instantly. He’s said something wrong, something that made Oikawa tense up again immediately.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, and it’s small and wrecked and heartbreaking. And-

Oh, God.

He’s crying.

“…Oikawa? What- hey, hey, what’s wrong? Oikawa-”

“You have no idea how it hurts,” Oikawa whispers, tiny and broken as silent tears slide down his cheeks. “…to- to love someone, but… but not remember who they are, or why they’re the most important thing in the universe and why you can’t stop staring at them – why every word they say echoes in your mind- but you don’t remember, no matter how hard you try…”

“Wh- Oikawa, wait. What are you-”

But there’s no stopping it now, the truth is pouring out.

“It’s bad enough, being in love with your best friend, but… but I could deal with that. I could pretend, even if it hurt. It hurt so much, maybe… maybe that’s why I forgot. Because it’s easier to forget than to admit defeat. I wasn’t gonna tell you, I swear. I don’t… we can still… we can be like we always were. I’ll… I’ll get over it, or I’ll learn to deal. I just need… a few days to sort myself out. So please, Iwa-chan- please, just go.”

Iwaizumi stares up at him, at the complete mess that is Oikawa Tooru, his captain, his best friend – and the person he loves most in the entire world, the person he’d move mountains and drain oceans for, if it made him happy.

_All you had to do was ask_.

“…you can’t expect me to just leave after all that,” he says, trying to keep his voice as light and carefree as possible, even as a storm roars up inside him.

Oikawa chokes on a sob. All his defenses are gone, and he holds Iwaizumi’s gaze with a strange resigned determination, even through the pain. All his cards are on the table now.

Iwaizumi watches the tears roll down his face for what feels like an eternity before he reaches up and drags his sleeve over Oikawa’s cheeks to dry them. The setter tenses under his touch, but lets him do it.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “Iwa-chan, I… please, just forget what I said, okay? It doesn’t matter, I’ll be fine-”

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi interrupts, eyebrows drawing together again. His arms drop back onto Oikawa’s thighs, and he has no intention of moving away.

“There’s no way I can just ignore… something like this.”

He sighs. His own head is a mess, and he knows it’ll take time to sort out – but he knows the important part. The part that Oikawa needs to know, too. As soon as possible. When he looks up to meet his eyes, however, the setter looks nothing short of terrified.

“But- Iwa-chan, please, I didn’t mean- I don’t want anything to change, I just-”

“Tooru.”

Oikawa freezes, his eyes going wide.

“Would a change really be so bad?”

Oikawa blinks. It’s dawning on him, Iwaizumi can see it, he’s just not ready to believe it yet. Always hesitating. Always second-guessing himself.

“Wh… what does that mean?” he whispers, hands clenching to fists in anticipation.

“You…”

Iwaizumi sighs again, running a hand through his hair. He sucks at this, apparently.

“This last week was… hell. I bet… I bet being forgotten by the person you love is just as bad as what you went through.”

Recognition and understanding flit across Oikawa’s face, and his lips part as he stares.

Then, just a little late, color starts rising to his cheeks, and within seconds he’s blushing furiously and covering his face with his hands.

“…Iwa-chan,” he moans through his fingers, and his shoulders start shaking.

“Hey, hey. No more crying. Look at me.”

“No, no, no…”

“Oikawa, I swear to God. Is that the answer you’re giving me?”

At this, Oikawa tears his hands away from his face, indignant.

“I confessed first!” he says, defiant even through his embarrassment. “You should be the one who answers, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi catches his hands before he can think to cover his face again.

“What do you want me to say, dumbass?”

Oikawa blinks, a little surprised. His entire face is tomato-red and scrunched up, and Iwaizumi thinks he’s never seen anything as ridiculous and endearing in his life. He reaches up and lets his fingers run through the setter’s soft hair, and Oikawa – whether unconsciously or on purpose, he can’t really tell – leans into the touch ever so slightly.

They stare at each other, both kind of lost and unsure what to do, but then Oikawa breaks it, launching himself forwards into Iwaizumi’s arms with a sound that’s nothing short of a wail.

Iwaizumi catches him, but the momentum throws him off and they topple backwards, Oikawa wrapped around him and sobbing all over again. The ace huffs out something like a chuckle – it’s kind of hard to breathe with the physical weight of the other boy on his chest, but he finds he really doesn’t mind, especially when Oikawa starts gasping his name through his tears. So instead of pushing him off, Iwaizumi wraps his arms around him and pulls him a little closer, unable to fight the smile on his lips.

_Finally, finally_.

Oikawa pulls back abruptly to sit up and stare down at him, face wet and eyes wide and red-rimmed from crying.

“…you… you like me,” he says, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

Iwaizumi, still lying on the floor, fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“…never stood a chance,” he says.

Oikawa reaches up to touch Iwaizumi’s face, and the latter is surprised to realize somewhere along the line he started crying, too. Damn it.

“You really… you really like me.”

“…yeah.”

Oikawa stares and stares, so many emotions flitting across his face in quick succession.

“…I thought I’d wrecked our friendship forever,” he says finally. “I thought… I thought you’d never…”

_Where have you been looking, dumbass?_

Iwaizumi manages a half-shrug, even in the awkward position he’s in. “It’s not like I did it on purpose, Shittykawa. It just happened.”

Seeing Oikawa’s expression cloud at his words, he adds: “I’m glad it’s you though.”

The setter frowns. “…why?” he asks, his voice strangely small. “It’s not like you couldn’t do better, Iwa-chan. You’re smart, and funny, and-”

“…and very hung up on you, I’m afraid.”

Oikawa shakes his head a little. “That makes no sense at all.”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “Sure it does. Everyone loves you.” He shifts a little, trying to sit up without pushing Oikawa off his lap. He settles for pushing himself up onto his elbows when that doesn’t work. Oikawa fidgets a little, evidently dissatisfied.

“No. No one who knows me – and I mean really knows me – would say they love me. I’m… I’m a mess and you know it.”

And he’s looking down again, unable to meet Iwaizumi’s gaze, and the ace can feel him drifting back into all the negativity that threatens to drag him down day in and day out. All his doubts, his fears, the misperception of his self-worth.

Iwaizumi frowns at him. “I know you. Still like you though. Besides, the mess isn’t all there is to you.”

Oikawa bites his lip. “Sometimes I think I’m nothing but a heap of messes. There’s… not much good in here.”

“You’re stupid, Oikawa. That’s bullshit.”

The setter scowls a little, annoyance breaking through the sadness that clouds his expression.

“…and you’re mean.”

“Only when you deserve it. You need to stop putting yourself down – if there’s nothing but trash to you, then doesn’t that make me look like an idiot for liking you?”

Oikawa considers for a moment. “…well…”

“Where’s your usual overconfidence? You know you’re not worthless. You’re… strong, hard-working and more observant than anyone else I know. You care way too much and you try too hard, but… that’s what makes you special, I guess.”

“…you guess…?”

Iwaizumi huffs indignantly. “I swear to God, if you’re nit-picking right now-”

Oikawa leans back a little, and he lets their fingers brush against each other on the floor.

“…sorry, Iwa-chan. It’s just… hard to believe that… after everything, you’d still…”

Iwaizumi lets himself drop back down onto his back and squeezes Oikawa’s hand resolutely. Christ, after everything they’ve been through, how could he _not_ love him unconditionally?

“Especially after all that, after knowing you for years, after admiring and respecting you and cherishing our friendship. I want you to be honest with me. I want to know everything that’s on your mind, even if you think it’s stupid. I want… I want to be with you.”

And of course now he’s the one to blush, even though he tried so hard not to let this get to him. Then again – this isn’t just another ordinary conversation. This is the turning point. This is… everything.

Oikawa looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears again as he searches Iwaizumi’s face for signs of a lie.

“I want to be with you, too,” he says finally, quiet and sincere. “You’re the only person who really… understands me, and cares about me.”

Iwaizumi nods. “Okay. Well then… I accept your confession, Oikawa.”

Oikawa laughs a little, taken aback. “…right.”

He hesitates, then adds: “…I really want to kiss you now.”

Even with everything inside him going “!!!!!!”, Iwaizumi manages to smirk. “You’d better do it quickly, then. Makki and Mattsun are probably wondering if we’ve killed each other yet. They could come inside any-”

But he’s cut off as Oikawa leans down and presses their lips together.

It’s a little sloppy and awkward at first, but then Oikawa’s fingers dig into his sides and Iwaizumi brings his arms up around him and they shift, improving the angle and making it so, so much better.

They come apart for air, and Iwaizumi barely has time to think before Oikawa claims his mouth again with a soft moan.

His brain is reeling, there are so many sensations and emotions and he has no words, no words for the happiness and relief and adoration he feels increasing exponentially by the millisecond. He gasps when they break apart again, eyes flying open to lock with Oikawa’s, who looks like he might burst any moment now.

A smile stretches across his face, painfully wide, and it grows and grows until Oikawa is laughing, chest heaving in relief and joy and he manages “Iwa-chan” and “I love you” and “Iwa-chan” again before he surges forward to kiss him a third time. And only when they pull apart again, Iwaizumi realizes they’re both kind of crying and laughing at the same time, and it’s utterly ridiculous and embarrassing but he finds he really doesn’t care. This, this is all he’s ever wanted.

He pushes himself up for real this time, jostling Oikawa a little as he manages to sit up before wrapping his arms around him. He can feel both their racing heartbeats against his chest and the wetness of Oikawa’s tears in the crook of his neck, but none of it matters.

“Finally,” he breathes, pulling him closer, never close enough. “Finally.”

Someone clears their throat obnoxiously, and both of them turn to face the door to see Hanamaki and Matsukawa standing there. The redhead has his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised, and the tall middle-blocker looks vaguely amused.

“That’s my line,” Hanamaki says, a little too enthusiastically. “Fucking _finally_.”

“…screw you, Makki,” Oikawa mumbles, half-annoyed, and Iwaizumi laughs a little. “Speak of the devil…”

“Hope you’ll be screwing Hajime, not Hiro,” Matsukawa says idly, examining his nails. He earns a scandalized look from Hanamaki and chuckles from the other two.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave that to you,” Oikawa says. “Now get out.”

Matsukawa scoffs, discretely ignoring the remark. “So rude. We just wanted to congratulate you.”

“Yeah,” Hanamaki says, nodding a little too vigorously to not be exaggerating. “You finally got your brains out of your asses and got together! No more fucking pining!”

Matsukawa rolls his eyes with feeling. “Preach it, brother.”

Oikawa leans back in Iwaizumi’s lap with an exasperated expression on his face. “I hate both of you.”

Iwaizumi nods, furiously pushing away the embarrassment he feels creeping up on him. “You totally wrecked the moment, guys.”

“I think we improved it,” Hanamaki says smugly. “But seriously, you should take this somewhere else. I wanna lock up this goddamn room so we can go home already.”

Oikawa huffs out a laugh. “And here I thought you guys were waiting because you cared about us.”

“Your standards are too high,” Iwaizumi says. “You can’t expect everyone to like you.”

“Yeah, listen to your boyfriend, bro. You’ll be disappointed a lot if you go through life with that attitude.”

“Especially with a personality like yours, Captain.”

“Oh, shut up!”

And they’re laughing again, and Iwaizumi leans forwards and rests his head against Oikawa’s chest, and he thinks that if this is how things will be from now on, then all the pain, all the struggling and hiding – and yeah, the fucking _pining_ – all of that was definitely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dkljdkshladuwhe what am I even doing I have no idea?? Hhhh but this isn't the end, people, I have some bonus fluff for you guys that's almost done (because I feel terrible for making you all wait so long...!)  
> (Yes it's my hc that Mattsun calls Makki "Hiro", shhh.)  
> Please feel free to scream at me in the comments or on tumblr


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, at long last - the final chapter!  
> Hope you like it, and I hope you can forgive me for being so _atrociously_ late. I've had a wild couple of months - but it's all good now, I've passed my finals and I finally got around to writing this! :D This is for ALL OF YOU!

There are still days when he can’t believe his luck. Days when he goes to pick up Oikawa for practice as always and is surprised when the setter throws his arms around him and kisses his cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and smiles that honest, happy smile that used to be so rare. Iwaizumi can hardly believe he gets to see this every day.

There are times when he wakes from a fitful sleep plagued with cruel nightmares, of Oikawa lying in a hospital bed, unmoving, and of the lost look of confusion in his eyes when he wakes, and Oikawa’s voice asking “Do I know you?” - those are the nights he wakes with tears drying on his face and fear making his heart slam in his chest. Those are the nights when he pulls out his phone and checks their last messages to make sure this reality is the real one, that Oikawa remembers him now, that Oikawa knows who he is and what he feels. Those are the nights that Iwaizumi is the one to text him at ungodly hours – and there are no words for the relief he feels when he immediately gets a reply.

But thankfully, those nights fade as time passes and Iwaizumi gets used to the fact that this is his truth now, that Oikawa knows him and cares for him and that Iwaizumi isn’t going to lose him.

And any thoughts he might have had about keeping their new relationship a private matter fly out the window the day after their confession, when Oikawa shows up at his classroom in the first break, practically throws himself at Iwaizumi and plants a kiss on his lips. Iwaizumi dimly registers a couple of girls squealing in surprise, but he’s far too busy blushing and struggling to push Oikawa off his lap to react. When Oikawa pulls away (on his own terms, of course, and far too late for Iwaizumi’s liking), everyone in the room is staring at them. Iwaizumi clears his throat and suddenly can’t hold eye contact with anyone, but Oikawa shoots their crowd of onlookers his most dazzling and dangerous smile and announces that “Iwa-chan is mine now, so don’t go getting any ideas.”

Iwaizumi is worried, for a while, that Oikawa publicizing their relationship like that could result in negative backlash – but the protests and disdain he does experience die down pretty quickly. Dating the most popular guy in his year (at least according to the girls) is challenging and comes with a fair share of jealousy, especially since some of Oikawa’s more aggressive fans can’t seem to accept the fact that Oikawa chose a guy over any of them, but he and Oikawa have the support of the team, and that helps. After all, Matsukawa and Hanamaki are fiercely protective and very vocal about it, and the others are quick to express similar sentiments (although Kindaichi can’t look Iwaizumi in the eye when he does, and Oikawa practically glares him down for no reason – or at least none that Iwaizumi can discern).

There’s something like a confrontation between the self-proclaimed leader of Oikawa’s fanclub, backed up by a handful of very dedicated members, and the volleyball club, about a week after they start dating. The girls are determined and angry, demanding that Iwaizumi and Oikawa break up – until Kyoutani slouches into the gym, late for practice but just in time for his naturally intimidating aura to tip the odds. Their Mad Dog is terrifying without even trying to be, and all it takes is an off-handed comment from him (“How the fuck is their relationship any of your business?”) to silence the crowd of disappointed girls, for the moment.

Iwaizumi notes with a slight tinge of distaste that, despite all that, Oikawa still gets the occasional confession from a hopeful girl who thinks she could win him over. It _is_ rather satisfying to see him turn them down, though, somehow. Must be something to do with hearing him say: “I’m very flattered, but I’m already in a relationship. And I don’t plan on breaking up with my Iwa-chan anytime soon.”

And after the initial shock of “Oikawa is gay?!”, Iwaizumi is pleasantly surprised by how few people actually care, and about Iwaizumi's own sexuality as well – at least in his class. He even gets congratulated – the whole thing is kind of awkward – by someone on the basketball team, who tells him that he respects Iwaizumi for “being able to deal with all that.” It’s not patronizing, it’s an honest compliment, which is why Iwaizumi is so taken aback.

When he tells Oikawa about it as they’re walking home from practice, the setter bursts out laughing, but then his eyes narrow and he asks for the guy’s name. “I’ll keep an eye out for that one, Iwa-chan. Seems like he’s interested in you.”

Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes, and pulls Oikawa closer by the belt loop on his pants as they walk. “Oh, yeah,” he says sarcastically, “better watch out, ‘kawa, he might snatch me away.”

Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms and pretending not to notice Iwaizumi’s fingers holding him in place. “Who knows? I always gotta keep my guard up. After all, you have tons of fans.”

Iwaizumi actually stops in his tracks (forcing Oikawa to halt, too) and raises his eyebrows at him. “Me. A ton of fans.”

But Oikawa doesn’t look like he’s joking. Instead his mouth twists in distaste, and he sighs. “And you don’t even notice.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “What the hell, Oikawa.”

“Seriously? Kin-chan, and Kyouken-chan, and that beefy football player from your class – have you seen how they _look_ at you? And now this basketball guy-”

Iwaizumi blinks at him. Everything about his posture, his expression, his words, it screams-

“…wh- Are you _jealous_?”

Oikawa doesn’t even grace that question with a response. He’s already turning away, but Iwaizumi holds on to him, pulling him back by the waist, refusing to let him leave without explaining himself because this is too important.

“Hey. You don’t really think I’d leave you for anyone else, do you?”

“…maybe someone who won’t forget you’re the most important thing in the universe,” Oikawa says bitterly.

And that’s when it hits him, with the force of running into a brick wall. That Oikawa feels _guilty_. That he’s blaming himself, doubting himself, like he’s prone to doing. That he’s really afraid Iwaizumi will change his mind about this.

Like he could. Like it was ever a _decision_ he could have made.

And then Iwaizumi realizes that it _is_ , actually. And that he’s made a choice he’s not going to regret. He increases the pressure on Oikawa’s sides, and makes sure the setter is looking at him before he speaks.

“Hey. Listen.”

Oikawa sighs, shaking his head. “Forget it, Iwa-chan.”

“No. Hey. You gotta listen to me. This is important and I need you to know.”

Oikawa runs a hand over his face, biting his lip as he cards his fingers through his hair.

“Oikawa.”

“…fine. I’m listening.”

With a huff of his own, Iwaizumi stands up a little straighter. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow in confusion. “I didn’t get hit by a truck on purpo-”

“That’s not what I mean. You know- you know I don’t blame you for forgetting me, right?”

Oikawa closes his mouth. Iwaizumi ploughs on, even though the words feel kind of heavy. He has to say this. He needs Oikawa to understand.

“It hurt, not being remembered by you. Because you’re… you matter so much to me. But that pain isn’t your fault. I was mad at you, yeah, but that was for… not telling me you remembered. I understand why you didn’t, though. And if you think there’s anyone, anyone at all that could possibly take your place… well, then you’re a lot dumber than I thought.”

He lets out a shaky breath, but Oikawa has started trembling a little, and he doesn’t look convinced.

“Tooru. Please. As if I could replace you. I’ve lo-“

And it’s still hard to say. The other day it hadn’t felt that difficult, but now...

He swallows, then tries again.

“All my life, you idiot. I’ve l- …I’ve loved you all my life. Don’t tell me you think that means so little.”

There’s a beat of silence. Oikawa bites his lip again, and lets his head hang forward limply as he leans closer to Iwaizumi, until his forehead touches the ace’s chest.

“…sorry,” he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. But Iwaizumi knows what to listen for. He’s always known.

“’s ok, dumbass. As long as you know now. Don’t doubt me.”

“Mmh.”

“Promise me.”

More silence. And then: “…yeah.”

“Good.” And he pulls away, exhaling in a sigh that’s more fond than exasperated when he sees Oikawa wipe his sleeve over his face.

“C’mon, Shitty-Tooru. Let’s go home.”

Oikawa coughs, and it could almost pass as a laugh. “ _Shitty-Tooru_ ,” he echoes. “Really, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi smiles. “You prefer _Shittykawa_?”

Oikawa turns away, pouting, and starts walking again – but not without grabbing Iwaizumi’s hand and pulling him along. Iwaizumi lets him, the smile not leaving his face.

“I’d prefer something cuter."

“Why? You’re plenty cute,” Iwaizumi says, before he can stop himself.

Oikawa _squeaks_ , staring at him. “ _What?_ ”

Iwaizumi gestures around helplessly with his free hand. “Well- I mean. _Iwa-chan_ is fine because… you know. It’s so obviously a nickname that’s not… serious. If I started calling _you_ something cute-”

Oikawa looks appalled – although it’d be more convincing if he wasn’t blushing scarlet. “You don’t think you’re cute, Iwa-chan? I beg to differ!”

“Uhm, no, I'm no-”

“...and that’s not _fair_!" Oikawa complains, cutting him off like he's having none of what Iwaizumi is offering. "You can’t just call me cute and insult me in the same breath!”

Iwaizumi smirks, squeezing Oikawa’s fingers. “Watch me.”

The setter just scowls at him, and they continue walking in silence for a while. It’s comfortable – warm and familiar. Iwaizumi doesn’t mind the quiet, but Oikawa is fidgeting.

“…what is it?”

“…”

“Oikawa. What.”

Oikawa looks up, and he’s still blushing – possibly harder than before. But he fixes Iwaizumi with his gaze.

“Tooru,” he says.

“Huh?”

“C-call me Tooru, Iwa-chan.” And then, looking down, he tacks on: “We’re. We’re dating, after all.”

Iwaizumi is caught off-guard – but then he laughs softly. “…I guess I could. You sure?”

Oikawa nods.

“…okay then, Tooru.”

And he’s proud that he doesn’t stutter.

They look at each other for a moment, the words hanging in the air between them – and then they both snort with laughter.

“Wow,” Iwaizumi gasps, “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“It’s p-probably better if you don’t,” Oikawa wheezes, holding his stomach. “So cute Iwa-chan, you were blushing!”

“Oh, shut up, dumbass!”

But as Oikawa continues to laugh, and Iwaizumi loses himself in the sound, and the way Oikawa’s eyes sparkle and his fingers tighten around their joined hands – he’s sure he wouldn’t trade this for anything. And he knows he’ll do everything in his power to keep this idiot close.

“…maybe I am a dumbass,” Oikawa allows. “But you only get to say it ‘cause I’m _your_ dumbass.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, ignoring the heat that’s rising to his face. “Whatever you say, Shitty-Tooru.”

“Mmh, so mean, Iwa-chan.”

“Only ‘cause it’s you.”

Oikawa moves in closer, briefly pressing his head into Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Stay with me,” he says. There’s vulnerability there, suddenly, and Iwaizumi hears it loud and clear.

But this is something he’s sure of. He’s pretty sure this is a promise he can keep.

“Of course.”

And that's all that really matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and I guess this is the end!
> 
> Thank you, to everyone who has stuck with this (and with me) for so long - I had really hoped to finish this sooner, and I apologize again for taking _way too long_ to make good on my promise of getting this done. Thank you to anyone and everyone who left kudos and comments - you guys make my day every day and I love all of you.  
>  Special shout-out to @bamsu, @Krissei, @acee, @Alliandoalice, @uncle-oikawah, @TheOtakuSupreme and @calmflipper for your continued support, for sticking around and motivating me, all of you are amazing and I am so, so grateful for your comments *wraps all of you in a huge group hug*
> 
> I encourage anyone and everyone to come scream at me on [tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com) please :D I'm open for conversations and making friends and I'll also _gladly_ take prompts :D  
>  And of course I'm immensely grateful to anyone who decides to check out my other stuff after this~!
> 
> Thank you (again), and I hope you have a wonderful day :D


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